


5 Times Tony Came Through For Peter

by SkiLift



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (also eventually), (eventually) - Freeform, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Movie Night, Blood, Bullying, Character Death, Civil War Fix-It, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Loss, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Tony Stark, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Torture, Violence, Whump, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiLift/pseuds/SkiLift
Summary: +1 time he couldn't





	1. No One Left pt.1

Peter is violently pulled from his daydream when the final bell rings, signifying the end to his school day. He stands up at his desk, gathering his things with renewed energy. Ned is already weaving through the desks and heading for Peter, excitement written in his features.  
“Hey, dude, you’re coming to my house, right?” Ned questions. Peter internally cringes, he had forgotten all about his scheduled hangout at Ned’s (or as Mr. Stark likes to call them- his ‘playdates.’) Peter hates to let his best friend down but his patrols are very important, and he can’t afford to miss even a single night.  
“Sorry, man, I totally forgot. I was planning on patrolling tonight… ” Peter explains as Ned visibly deflates, puffing out his lip in a pout.  
“You gonna need your Guy in the Chair tonight?” Ned asks, a spark of hope returning to his eyes. Again, Peter has to cringe- that’s twice in a row he has to let him down.  
“Probably not tonight, Ned,” The spark of hope dies instantly but Peter isn’t finished talking, “but when Mr. Stark calls me for a real mission, you’ll be the first to know. You can be my Guy in the Chair on, like, an actual important Avengers thing!” He says as animatedly as he can while keeping his voice down. If the other students heard him, they’d probably just pass it off as Peter being delusional, but he’d still rather not have that be necessary in the first place.  
“Hasn’t it been like…two months since you’ve even heard from Mr. Stark?” Ned asks.  
“Well…I guess so, but I’m sure he’ll call me any day now!” Peter says, but some part of him knows he’s just fooling himself. Ned makes a uncertain hum but seems placated for now, at least. As they reach the front doors, Peter hears Flash’s voice calling after him, but he isn’t about to let Flash destroy his excitement for patrolling. If the shift in his facial expression is anything to go by, Peter can tell Ned wants to turn around and face Flash, but Peter just ushers him out of the building. “I’ll definitely be over soon, though, so don’t start building your new set without me!” Peter calls after Ned as the two separate. Ned gives him a double thumbs up and makes his way towards his mother’s car while Peter begins the familiar trek back to his apartment.  
Although the walk takes him a while, Peter still manages to get back with a skip in his step. Opening the door, however, he immediately notices the lights in the kitchen are turned on. His first thought is that someone broke into his apartment but his enhanced sense aren’t giving anything away. He considers calling out to May but decides against it. Peter slowly approaches the kitchen, his stance poised and ready to react, and peaks around the wall. He is surprised to see not an intruder, but May, sitting at the table, with her head in her hands.  
“Uh…Aunt May?” Peter calls out cautiously. As soon as she hears his voice, she startles but flashes him her usual smile. “Are you okay…?” Peter asks as he approaches the table. May looks up at him and now Peter can see her smile appears forced and…rather pained.  
“Yeah, I’m just fine, Peter. How was school?” May says, although her words seemed forced as well. Peter considers her for a moment before responding.  
“School was alright but…shouldn’t you be at work right now? Not that I’m not happy to see you obviously I just thought tha-“ May cuts off Peter with a light chuckle.  
“I took a sick day today- it’s just one of those days where you want to laze around and do nothing, y’know?” She explains. Peter can tell something is up but he doesn’t want to press the issue, May looks tired enough without his interrogation. “I know tonight is one of your Spider-Manning nights but remember what we discussed? No crime fighting until after homework.”  
“Of course, how could I forget?” Peter jokes as he heads for his bedroom. “I’ll let you know when I’m going out!” He calls and is pleased when he hears May’s hum of approval.  
A few hours of grueling Spanish vocabulary and math problems later, Peter is suited up and raring to go. He heads for May’s bedroom to say goodbye only to find her asleep, on her side and facing away from him. Peter smiles fondly as he pulls the blanket up around her, and hunts for a pen and paper to write a note. He leaves the note on her nightstand where he knows she’ll see when she wakes up and heads back to his bedroom, opens the window, and launches himself out of it.  
After successfully thwarting several muggings and even a hold-up at a convenience store, Peter takes a moment and sits down on a random fire escape.  
“Hey, Karen, do I have any notifications?” Peter asks his AI.  
“Nope, but it’s almost two in the morning. I think you should head back before May starts to worry.” Karen advises amiably. Peter internally curses, he hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.  
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Peter chuckles, swinging back in the directions of his apartment. He lands on the ledge outside his window as quietly as he can, and slides open his window carefully. Pulling the mask over his head and tossing it onto his bed, Peter pads out of his room, past the living room and into May’s bedroom. He finds her in the exact same position he last saw her in, the note left untouched on the nightstand.  
“Uh…May?” Peter calls out to her. “I’m back from patrol.” He rounds the corner of the bed and peers down at her face. “May?” He calls again, setting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a gentle shake. Panic sets in as she doesn’t react in the slightest. “May, wake up!” Peter says, louder this time and shaking her more frantically. She just rolls onto her back, where Peter can see her face is deathly pale and her lips are tinged blue. “Shit, shit, shit!” Peter cusses as he scrambles into the kitchen, yanking the phone off the receiver and dialing 911 as fast as his fingers will allow. The responder answers after two rings.  
“911, where is your emergency?” Peter rattles off his address, trying in vain to keep the panic out of his voice. The responder begins to ask him another question but Peter doesn’t let her finish.  
“M-my aunt, please, you have to get here quickly, I d-don’t think she’s breathing and her lips are blue and-“  
“Do you know how to do CPR?” The responder interrupts him and Peter immediately tells her he does. “Okay, you need to unlock your front door and get your aunt onto the floor, can you do that?”  
“Y-yeah I can.” Peter practically sprints to the front door, unlocks it, and sprints back to May’s room. He sets his phone to speaker mode and carefully maneuvers May’s listless form onto the ground. “Okay, I did it!”  
“Great, is she breathing?” She asks and Peter holds his hand under her nose. When he feels nothing, he lowers his head onto her chest. No heartbeat. Peter is almost in hysterics as he addresses the responder.  
“No, no she’s not breathing and I c-can’t hear a heartbeat, oh, God, May!” Peter shakes her again, vision obscured by the flood of tears now pouring from his eyes.  
“You need to calm down, your aunt needs you! Gives her two breaths every thirty compressions and don’t hang up until the paramedics arrive. Can you hear sirens?” The responder asks and, if Peter wasn’t so panicked, he would marvel at how she is able to remain calm throughout this situation. Despite the pounding in his head, his enhanced hearing can pick up the faint sound of sirens pulling up outside.  
“Y-yes I hear them.” Peter tells her.  
“Alright, just try to stay calm so you can answer their questions. Does your aunt have a history of heart problems?”  
“No! M-maybe, I don’t know!” Peter chokes out. His eyes are glued to May’s face. Her color hasn’t improved and her lips are even more blue than when he found her. “P-please don’t die, May, please!” He sobbed through the compressions when he heard the front door fly open and a slew of voices. “In here, I’m in here, h-hurry!” Peter cried, and he felt a sliver of relief when a team of people flooded into the room, already getting to work moving the bed against the far wall and kneeling down beside Peter. His hands were pushed out of the way and someone else is already picking up compressions, more vigorously than he was doing them. Another EMT pulls him aside and begins asking him questions and trying to talk to him but Peter can only hear ringing. The initial rush of adrenaline is finally wearing off, leaving only panic and terror in its wake.  
The EMT’s already have May loaded onto a stretcher and are carting her out the door. Peter grabs his phone, ends the call, and follows them numbly. Once outside, Peter sees a fire truck as well and the paramedics are rushing to get the stretcher into the ambulance. Peter climbs in behind it without a word, along with two EMT’s. The ambulance immediately shoots out into traffic, tearing down the street with sirens blaring. He can’t take his eyes off May. She looks so cold and…lifeless. They’ve intubated her and are inserting an IV when one of the paramedics begins asking him more questions. Peter feels as though he’s on autopilot but he still answers the questions to the best of his ability.  
The drive to the hospital was painfully long and Peter was counting every second. As soon as they arrived, May was offloaded and rushed through the emergency bay doors. Peter made to follow but was stopped by an EMT who gently told him that it was best he wasn’t in the room- the doctors need space to work, she said. An intake nurse came out to meet them and led Peter to what appeared to be a waiting area. Peter wasn’t in hysterics anymore, but the tears were still silently falling. The nurse seemed to respect that and spoke to him in a low, gentle voice. She asked for his name, age, and relation to the patient. Peter answered mindlessly, his mind wrapped in a torrent of emotions.  
“Do you have anyone to come wait with you?” The nurse asked him carefully, as if he was made of glass and might shatter at any moment.  
“N-no, she’s all the family I have.” Peter punctuated his statement with a large sniffle. He rubbed at his eyes almost angrily. He shouldn’t have gone on patrol. He should have been more attentive. He should have noticed something was wrong. But now, it might be too late. Peter banished the thought from his mind. It couldn’t be too late, she was all he had left. Without her, he would have nowhere to go. The nurse reminded him that if he needed anything, all he had to do was ask. All Peter needed was for his aunt to be okay. 

Time dragged on and with each passing second, Peter grew more and more discouraged. He checked the clock on the wall. It was only 3:02 in the morning. He didn’t even know if he had been waiting for an hour, but it felt like days. Suddenly, a door opened and a woman dressed in scrubs and a long white coat walked through. They locked eyes and Peter saw something he didn’t like in them. It might have been pity. The doctor approached him.  
“Are you Peter Parker?” She asked, her soft voice matching the atmosphere. Peter nodded. “And May Parker is your aunt?” She pressed on, earning another nod from Peter. “I’m sorry to tell you this but your aunt passed away tonight. Please know that we did all we could to save her and I’m very sorry for your loss. Since you are a minor, a social worker will c-“ The doctor continued speaking but Peter couldn’t hear her anymore. His ears began to ring, and he suddenly felt that the room he was in was far too small. He dropped his head into his hands and chocked out a sob.  
“C-can I see her?” He pleaded with the doctor.  
“Of course. Please follow me.” She turned and strode towards the door she entered through. Peter followed her, truly on autopilot now. She led him to a room with medical equipment strewn about and a single bed in the center supporting a devastatingly familiar shape under a white sheet. “Please, take all the time you need.”  
Peter said nothing as he approached the bed and the doctor made her exit. With shaking hands, he reached for the sheet, gingerly pulling it back to reveal May’s face. Except it wasn’t May. Peter couldn’t recognize the woman that was on the table, she was far too pale and her face was far too sullen. May was warm and cheerful and a comforting presence he had learned to rely on. Peter had never felt so alone in his life. He plopped down into a chair next to the bed and dropped his forehead onto the edge. He didn’t sob or scream like he so wanted to. He just stared at the tile, fat tears dripping onto the floor. He could’ve been there for minutes or hours, he had no concept of time anymore, when there was a soft knock at the door. Peter didn’t respond but the door opened anyways. He heard the click of heels on the floor and a feminine voice say his name.  
“Peter, my name in Sonya Rubio, I’m the social worker assigned to your case. I’m very sorry for your loss but it is my understanding that you have no living relatives. We found a copy of your aunt’s will and saw that she has designated someone to assume custody of you, should she pass away unexpectedly.” The woman explained. Peter only processed the bare minimum of what she had said but he understood enough. He picked his head up off the bed and appraised the social worker. She gave him a warm smile. “Do you know who she might’ve given custody to?”  
Peter wracked his brain but still came up with nothing. He had no living family left, no one to stay with. He shook his head. Sonya just smiled again and looked ready to launch into an explanation.  
“Well she wrote that she would like custody to fall to-“ She was cut off by a loud racket in the hallway. Words were being exchanged much too loudly for Peter’s liking. He was about to let his head drop back onto the bed when the door flew open revealing none other than Tony Stark. Peter could only stare with wide eyes. Did May assign custody of him to Tony Stark?  
“-if you don’t like it, call my lawyers!” Mr. Stark shouted down the hallway. He stepped into the room dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. His eyes fell on Peter who could only continue to stare. He hadn’t seen or even heard from this man in over two months, how could he be here now? Peter swore he saw a flash of pity in Mr. Stark’s eyes that only intensified when those eyes landed on May’s body. Tony turned to Sonya. “Can I take my kid and go now?”  
Sonya seemed flustered at having the real Tony Stark there in person but she recovered her voice to stutter out, “Yes, sir, but there are papers that need to be signed and the state needs to-“  
“Just call my lawyers or fax them the papers or whatever it is you do.” Tony said, withdrawing a business card from his wallet and handing it to Sonya, which she took out of pure shock. Tony turned his attention to Peter and his expression immediately softened, a testament to how terrible Peter must’ve looked. “You ready to go, kid?” Tony asked gently, pointedly avoiding looking at May’s body. Peter considered for a moment, looked at May’s face, then back to Tony. He nodded and slowly returned the sheet over May’s face. He stood almost robotically and made his way to the door, Tony following closely behind him. As they made their way down the hallway towards the doors, Tony’s arm found its way around Peter’s shoulders and Peter automatically leaned into him. Sonya called after them, but they just kept walking. By the time they reached the car, Tony was almost completely supporting all of Peter’s weight. Happy made his way around to their side and opened the back door. Peter didn’t miss the look they exchanged. Tony gently ushered him into the back seat and slid in after him, which would have surprised Peter if he wasn’t suddenly so exhausted. Happy assumed the driver’s seat and they were off. Peter was curious as to where they were going, but he was too tired to care. He began to drift off but felt Tony’s arm return to its place around his shoulders. He didn’t stop there, however. Tony gently pulled Peter down until his head was resting on Tony’s leg. Another wave of exhaust washed over him and this time, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. As Peter floated, he vaguely recognized the feeling of a hand gently carding through his hair. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend it was May.


	2. No One Left pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback on the first chapter!!! Here's part 2 as promised. Enjoy!

     Peter’s eyes snap open and he is immediately greeted by sunlight streaming through the curtains hung in front of a floor-to-ceiling pane of glass to his right. His surroundings are unfamiliar and his gut reaction is to panic, but with some effort he is able to suppress the instinct.

     “Good afternoon, Mr. Parker.” Chimed a feminine voice and Peter immediately squeaked in surprise. “I apologize for startling you.” The voice seemed remorseful, but Peter recalled how much Tony enjoyed creating AI’s. What had he called this one? Jarvis? No, that was the last one. Was it rude to ask an AI for its name?

     Throwing caution to the wind, Peter asked anyways. “Sorry, but…what’s your name, again?” He tried to keep the sheepishness out of his voice.

     “I am called Friday.” The voice explains. Recollection flashes through Peter’s mind.

     “Oh…I knew that.” Peter mumbled, taking stock of the room around him. “Um, where are we?”

     “This is the new Avengers facility in upstate New York.” Friday answered simply. Peter sighed, remembering that Tony had sold the old Avengers Tower.

     The bed he is in is surprisingly comfortable and plush, quite different than the bed at his apartment. Thinking of his room at the apartment triggered something in him, however, and the memories of the previous night flooded back all at once, causing Peter to nearly choke on the air in his lungs.

     “Mr. Parker, you appear to be in distress. Shall I notify Boss?” Friday offered.

     “No!” Peter exclaimed, but he instantly regretted being so dramatic. “N-no, Friday, you don’t have to do that.” He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths and was sucked back into his thoughts.  

     May was dead. His last living relative was dead, and he could’ve saved her. If he didn’t go on patrol last night, Peter could’ve called the ambulance hours sooner and may have even saved her life. He shot up into a sitting position, angrily shoving the heels on his palms into his eyes, wiping away the tears that were forming. He wouldn’t let himself cry. Swinging his legs off the bed, his feet were met with pleasantly soft carpet. Looking around, he noticed a dresser pushed against the wall and approached it, opening the top drawer. He was shocked to find his own clothes inside, neatly folded and organized. Opening the rest of the drawers yielded similar results so Peter went to the closet, already knowing what he was going to see inside. Sure enough, opening the door to the very large walk-in closet revealed the rest of his clothes, with plenty of empty space for more. He was vaguely impressed that this was done in the span of one night but that feeling was quickly quashed by the realization that Tony was likely trying to give Peter no reason to visit his old apartment. Perhaps it was his way of showing kindness because Peter knew Tony was anything but straightforward with his feelings and emotions. But, in some way, Peter knew he, himself was guilty of that as well.

     Peter shut the closet door and approached another door, noting the presence of a very expensive looking desk with an even more expensive looking laptop resting on top of it. Unsurprisingly, his backpack was at the foot of the desk. Throwing open the other door revealed a full bathroom, fully furnished with towels and brand-new toiletries sitting on the counter. Peter had a passing thought- was this place supposed to be his home now? There had to be extensive paperwork and interviews involved with taking responsibility of a minor, but would Tony even bother with all of that? Seeing as how he practically had his very own apartment now, he figured Tony was probably already on top of it.

     As he approached the final door, it slid open for him without any prompting. Hesitantly, Peter wanders out of the room and down the hallway, keeping close to the wall and making mental notes of all the doorways he passes. At the end of the hallway there is a large open space, one side occupied by an impressively long couch and an equally large flat screen mounted on the wall, and the other side occupied by a clean looking kitchen, complete with an island surrounded by several stools. A quick once-over of the place tells Peter that he is by himself. He considers looking for Mr. Stark but decides against it, instead taking a seat on one of the stools. Peter places his arms on the cool granite of the island and lowers his head to rest on them. With a heavy sigh, he tries in vain to steer his thoughts away from last night, and squeezes his eyes shut to drive away the sudden pressure behind them. Just as the first tear is about to fall, footsteps startle Peter out of his spiraling thoughts. Whipping around to face them, he is greeting by the sight of Tony Stark approaching him. Peter find himself oddly comforted but pushes the feeling away as soon as it had appeared.

     Taking the stool next to Peter’s, Mr. Stark greets him with a subdued “Hey, kid.” He speaks quietly and Peter appreciates it, but how is he even supposed to respond? _Hey, Mr. Stark, since my entire family is dead now, am I supposed to live here? Do you even want me living here?_

     Peter settles on a simpler question: “What about school?” He asks, matching the same quiet pitch as Mr. Stark.

     It seems as though Mr. Stark was prepared for that exact question because he answers quickly. “Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to go back right away so I emailed your school to let them know you’ll be on independent study for a while; they’ll send all the work here eventually.” Mr. Stark explains, but something in Peter’s expression makes him backtrack. “Unless you _do_ want to go back right away, in which case Happy can drive you. Or I can drive you, if you want.” He adds quickly.

     “N-no Mr. Stark, that’s fine, independent study is…great. It’s fine, it’s all fine” Mr. Stark doesn’t miss the wavering in Peter’s voice.

     “Kid, you know you can call me Tony, right? We’ve known each other for like a year, I think that’s enough for first-name basis.” Mr. Stark says, but his voice is gentle. 

     “Okay, uh, Mr. St- Tony, I mean. So am I going to be, like…living here now?” Peter asks the questions that’s been burning in the back of his mind since he woke up. Tony looks down at his hands. If Peter didn’t know any better, he’d say Mr. Stark was nervous.

     “I mean…yeah, that was the plan.” Again, he backtracks. “If you have somewhere else you want to stay- that’s fine, too, I just thought since there’s already a room set up for you here…” Tony lets his voice trail off. Peter’s expression of immense relief causes something in Tony’s heart to shift.

     “Oh, man, Mr. S- Tony, are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?” Peter’s voice cracks again. “Isn’t there, like, a lot of legal stuff involved? I’m still a minor so-“

     “Already got people on it, kid.” Tony reassures him but finds himself lamenting the fact that Peter, this 15-year-old kid, was worried about being homeless. 15-year-olds should not have to worry about being homeless.

     Peter turns away from Tony to stare at the table, willing the pressure behind his eyes to disappear. “That’s…really nice of y-you.” A tear slipped free and Peter wiped it away quickly. “Ah, geez, sorry, Mr. Stark.” Peter rambled. With a chorus of ‘oh man’s’ and ‘oh geez’s,’ Peter pressed his hands into his eyes, sniffling deeply. Tony was completely out of his element, here, but he can’t say he hadn’t expected this. In fact, he was impressed Peter had managed to stay composed for this long.

     Tony raises a hand and moves to rub Peter’s back reassuringly but movement in the corner of his eye stops him. Both Tony and Peter turn to face the entrance of the hallway. Steve Rogers looks to Peter, and then at Tony, obvious confusion burning in his gaze. In any other situation, Peter would have been thrilled to meet Captain America himself, but not like this. Not having just lost his aunt, probably looking like a mess with puffy red eyes and tear stains on his face. Peter turns away quickly to wipe at his eyes as Steve speaks up.

     “Who’s this? Stark, tell me he’s not your ki-“

     “I’m gonna stop you right there, Capsicle.” Tony interrupts. He looks back down at Peter in question. “Is it okay if I tell the team that you’re…y’know…a crime fighting spider-kid?” He asks him, low enough so that Steve won’t overhear. Peter considers for a moment. What would he have to lose? His aunt is dead so he has no one left to protect. But, if the team discovered that Spider-Man is a 15-year-old, would they patronize him? Peter nods, anyways. Tony gives him a small smile, gets up from the stool, and walks towards the hallway, motioning for Steve to follow him. Thanks to his enhanced hearing, he is able to hear the two men mumbling to each other, but he can’t make out what they are saying. Suddenly, Steve’s voice raises in volume.

     “What!? Tony, you put me up against a _kid!?_ I could’ve ki-“ Steve’s urgent whispering is cut off by Tony’s voice, and the volume is brought back down to unintelligible. Peter cringes slightly, but he was expecting this reaction, at least from Steve. About a minute later, both men return to the kitchen and Tony reclaims his stool while Steve leans against the island. Tony is about to say something when Peter turns his gaze back to the hallway, just in time for Falcon and Black Widow to enter.

     “Woah, Tony, I didn’t know you had a kid, when were you going to introduce us?” Sam jokes and Natasha chuckles.

      “That joke was almost funnier the second time.” Tony deadpans. “Steve, can you…?” Tony nods to Sam and Natasha, and then to Peter.

      “Ah, yeah, okay.” Steve motions for the two newcomers to follow him and they all return to the hallway. Moments later, their voices raise in shock similar to the way Steve’s did when Tony was explaining to him. Peter sighed heavily, causing Tony to look down at him.

     “Mr. Stark, if they don’t want me here I can-“ Peter begins but he is cut off.

      “They’ll want you here.” Tony says without hesitation. “And even if they don’t, I’ll make them.” He adds confidently. Steve returns to the kitchen, then, with Sam and Nat in tow. Their expressions are somber, and Peter avoids looking in their eyes. He doesn’t want pity. “Peter,” Tony gets his attention. “You hungry?” But Peter shakes his head. “Really? Don’t you have, like, a super-fast metabolism?” Tony asks him. Peter shakes his head again.

      “I’m…kind of tired, actually. I think I’m just gonna go take a nap.” Peter just wants to be alone and it seems as if Tony gets the message.

     “Alright, well…sweet dreams, kid.” Tony is smiling almost sadly. Peter gives him a thumbs up makes his way towards his room. He doesn’t need eyes in the back of his head to know they’re all exchanging looks. Peter can hear a subdued conversation pick up as the door to his room slides shut behind him. He sluggishly climbs into bed, on his side facing away from the entrance, and hasn’t even had his eyes closed for 5 minutes when he hears the door slide open. He hopes he can pretend he’s asleep convincingly enough to avoid whatever conversation awaits him. Footsteps approach his bedside, then stop.

     “You need to talk to someone, kid.” A voice says. Peter realizes with a jolt of nerves that it’s Mr. Stark. Deep down, he knew this conversation was coming but he’s not ready for it right now. Peter can already feel the lump in his throat rising. He’s glad Mr. Stark can’t see his face. “It doesn’t have to be me, or the team, or Fred or that girl, but it has to be someone.” Mr. Stark continues, with growing urgency in his voice. “I’ll pay for a professional or something, but you can’t bottle everything up. I’ve seen what that shit does to people- hell, I’ve _lived_ it.  You might not realize it yet but you’ve still got people in your corner, people who-“ Mr. Stark clears his throat and pauses, “People who care about you, Pete.” Was that a crack in his voice? No, that was impossible, Peter has never seen Mr. Stark upset enough to lose his composure. His vision was blurred by tears, now, and Peter was trying his best not to let himself tremble. That would be a dead giveaway. The footsteps walk back towards the door and only when the door slides shut, and Peter is certain he is alone does he let himself cry. He sobs into his pillow until no more tears fall but he continues. He is grateful for Friday’s silence. Eventually, exhausted from crying for what could’ve been minutes or hours, sleep mercifully finds him.

 

       Peter’s awakening this time is slow. He rolls over several times, blinking the fatigue out of his eyes. Checking the clock reveals that it is nearly 7PM. Peter’s stomach protests loudly and he is reminded that he hasn’t eaten in over 24 hours. Rising lethargically from bed, he shuffles out the door and towards the kitchen. Before he can reach it however, a voice stops him in his tracks.

      “I know, Rhodey, but he’s-“ The voice pauses and Peter peaks out of the hallway to see Mr. Stark sitting on a stool, with his head in one hand and a cell phone in the other. “I know, and now I have a _funeral_ to plan and a 15-year-old _kid_ to take care of, I-“ He pauses again, sighing deeply. “I’m way out of my element, here.” Mr. Stark admits and it feels like a punch in the gut to Peter. His idol was sticking his neck out for him, giving him a place to stay, and Peter didn’t know how he could ever repay Mr. Stark for his generosity. He felt like an inconvenience. Tony spoke up again. “You will?” He seems incredulous. “Thanks, Rhodes, you’re the best.” He hangs up the phone and Peter waits several seconds before deciding to make himself known. He shuffles into the kitchen and Tony turns to look at him. He eyes Peter’s hair and smiles mirthfully. “Sleep well?” Tony asks. Peter feels his face heat up as he swipes his hair back into order. He’s glad Mr. Stark isn’t mentioning what he said from earlier. “Hungry now?” Peter is quick to nod this time. “Well, good, because I’ve called together a little impromptu movie night. For, like…team building and whatnot. Pizza should be here soon. Steve and Nat went to get it ‘cause, y’know, most places don’t really deliver this far out.”

     At the thought of pizza, Peter’s stomach rumbles loudly and Tony just smiles as Peter blushes again. As if on cue, the elevator slides open, revealing Steve, Natasha, and several boxes of heavenly smelling pizza. Sam and Wanda wandered into the kitchen and Peter was shocked to see Bruce, Clint, and Vision here as well. He figured most of them had things to do. Friendly chatter arose between the team and he heard Clint make a comment about not wanting to miss movie night, even if it was short notice. At first, Peter put two slices of pizza on his plate but after a sideways glance from Tony, stacked several more on top. The team members who Peter had never met formally didn’t seem to question his presence- maybe Tony filled everyone in? Whatever the case, Peter was glad no one would berate him with questions. They all found their seats on the couch, Peter on the very edge with Tony at his side.

    “Who’s turn is it to pick the movie?” Clint asked no one in particular.

    “I believe it is-“ Vision was going to answer but Tony cut him off.

    “It’s Peter’s turn.” Everyone seemed to pick up on what Tony was doing and all eyes fell on Peter expectantly.

     “Uh…” Peter racked his brain. “How about…Star Wars?” He suggested sheepishly. The team all seemed pleased with his choice, so Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

    “You heard him, Fri. Dim the lights.” Tony instructed, and the lights dimmed as the opening crawl of the first Star Wars movie filled the screen.

    Halfway through the movie, Peter is no longer engrossed. Instead, he thinks about how many times he and May had watched the Star Wars movies together. He bites the inside of his cheek as the all to familiar lump begins to rise in his throat once again.  Tony must be able to feel how tense Peter has suddenly become because he looks down at him, instantly noticing his glassy eyes. Without a second thought, Tony has his arm wrapped securely around Peter’s shoulders. Peter presses his face into Tony’s shoulder as a shudder rips through him. Tony removes his hand from around Peter and rests it on his head, petting his hair in soothing motions. With any luck, the rest of the team won’t see him cry.

 

     The days pass in a blur and eventually turn into weeks. The funeral is today, nearly 16 days after May’s death, and Peter is anything but ready. He solemnly dresses in the tailored black tuxedo Tony had fitted for him, trying and failing miserably to make his tie look normal. After several minutes of wrestling with it in the mirror, Peter gives up and makes his way into the common area, face devoid of all expression. Tony is there, dark glasses already on and dressed in a sharp tuxedo, almost identical to Peter’s. Tony’s eyes fall to Peter’s face, and then to his suit. He tuts softly and moves to fix Peter’s tie. As Tony works, a silent tear drips to the floor. His eyes shoot up to Peter’s face then quickly back down to the task at hand. The two wordlessly take the elevator down to the garage where Happy is already waiting for them. The drive is silent and passes in an instant. Happy turns into a very nice, very expensive looking cemetery and Peter doesn’t need to question who made that happen.

     The procession is somber, but Peter suddenly notices the presence of nearly everyone from his decathlon team. He told Ned and MJ, of course, but surely not everyone else. One by one they approached him to offer their condolences and Ned and MJ were practically glued to his side the whole time. At one point, Peter swears he could recognize the super-team in the very back, all disguised very well. He passes it off as a trick of the eye due to emotional exhaustion. A few of May’s coworkers and friends stepped up to say a few words and maybe share a story. Peter didn’t really know any of them but they offered their condolences as well. No one asked Peter to speak, for which he was eternally thankful. Throughout the whole ordeal, not a tear was shed from Peter, not until they were back in the car, speeding off towards the Compound. He didn’t sob, however, just gazed out the window at the passing scenery, tears sliding down his face. Like the drive over, the drive back was silent, as well. In fact, the next time Tony spoke to him was late at night, as Peter was climbing into bed.

     “I know you haven’t gone on patrols since the accident.” Tony started. Peter simply looked up at him. “It’s more than fine to take a break but, please…” Tony stopped to take a breath and collect his thoughts. “Don’t let this be the reason you give up Spider-Man. I know how much it means to you.”

     Peter considered his words for a moment, then nodded. Tony smiled with that unfortunately familiar underlying sadness, ruffled Peter’s hair gently, and left. The door slid shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, tell me what you think. Comments give me life.


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